Woven in Moonlight (Woven in Moonlight #1)(96)

Catalina grips the railing of the balcony, her shoulders slumping, and the proud veneer she wears crumbles. Her body trembles and her hand comes up to her face. I want to reach for her, but I force myself to stay still. There’s no one fighting for her anymore. She’s alone and she knows it. I need her to feel that—because maybe she’ll realize how wrong it is for her to cling to the throne.

“That’s why I betrayed you, Catalina,” I whisper. “I wanted to end the war and not start a new one.”

“Get out,” she says. “Just get out.”

Catalina turns around, and the look she gives me tears at my heart. Her eyes do all the screaming.

I cross the room, already trying to forget the expression on her face. But I doubt I’ll ever be able to. Rumi stands when the door opens, and he holds out his arms. I walk into them, settling my cheek against the soft cotton of his tunic. He rubs my shoulders and then gently leads me back to my room.

“What can I do?” he whispers.

I shake my head. There’s nothing. I’ve lost Catalina for good.

Tomorrow will only make it official.



The next day, Rumi helps me dress, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He teases and flirts and kisses me until I worry my cheeks will remain red until the end of time.

I know what he’s doing, and I appreciate the distraction. It’s nice having him around. More than nice. Especially since he keeps up the habit of washing his clothes. When I say as much, Rumi roars with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I ask. “It was a serious problem, Rumi. That smell was giving me grave concerns.”

That only makes him laugh harder. “Ximena, I wash my clothes twice a week. At least. I always have.”

“No—”

“Yes,” he counters. “I stuffed my pockets with a bag of herbs to create the smell. A special blend, my own creation. That’s all that it was.”

“Why would you do something so silly?”

“Was it all that silly?” he asks slyly. “Distracted you plenty, didn’t it? People focused on the smell, on the slumping healer who made a spectacle of himself fawning over his precious king. Who would have ever thought the laughingstock of court was El Lobo? Certainly not you.”

I purse my lips. It’s clever, but I’ll never say so. His ego needs to be kept in check.

Rumi lets out another chuckle and opens the door for me.

“Wait,” I say, turning around. My animals stare back at me. I motion for them to follow. “I want the world to meet them,” I explain. “It’s time.”

Rumi takes the sloth in his arms, and the lizard settles onto his shoulder. The parrot flies above our heads, followed closely by the owl, who came back sometime during the night. I latch onto Rumi as we head down to court, the condor, anaconda, and llama at our heels. No guards trail after us. That’s a pleasant change.

“You’re quiet,” Rumi comments.

“I was thinking about how different this walk is compared to the first trip I ever made to court. Do you remember that day?”

He nods. “I didn’t know what to make of you. And you were wearing one of Princesa Tamaya’s dresses. I like the outfit you’re wearing right now much better.”

I’d chosen a simple white skirt—no ruffles—and a tunic with a low-slung leather belt. Very Illustrian, save for the vibrantly striped vest over the ensemble. The perfect blend of the girl I used to be with the girl I want to be.

“It suits you,” he says, as if he can hear my thoughts.

Warmth spreads deep into my belly. He smiles and pulls me closer as we continue to the great hall.

“By the way …” Rumi begins. “There are quite a few Illustrians sleeping in the spare rooms and courtyard. Most decided to stay for Princesa Tamaya’s coronation. She gave a great speech about wanting their help in unifying Inkasisa.”

But did she convince them? They’ve spent years living steeped in their dislike—in their desire for revenge. Princesa Tamaya has a long battle ahead of her. The process of making the nation whole will take time and energy and a strong will.

I stop. “Can I see them?”

Rumi smiles, gently pulling me along. “Of course—that’s why I’m telling you, you fool.”

He laughs when I make a face. The doors to the throne room loom ahead, and I stiffen. Two sentries open the tall double doors to the great hall. As I pass by, they salute and grin wildly at the sight of my creatures trailing after me as if we’re a parade. The llama spits a woolly ball at one of their faces.

At the foot of the room sits the princesa, a resplendent headdress with delicate gold weaving on her head. Her dark hair tumbles loosely around her shoulders.

At my entrance, she jumps to her feet.

“Ximena Rojas,” Tamaya says, grinning. “And company.”

Rumi hands me the sloth and gently pushes me forward. As I walk down the long aisle, Llacsans and Illustrians drop to one knee.

By the time I reach the dais, I’m sure my face is the color of a ripe tomato. The princesa bounds down the steps and embraces me, careful not to squish the animal in my arms. Laughing, she clutches her headdress to keep it from falling.

Tamaya fingers the animal’s moon thread. “This is extraordinary magic.”

“Yours is better.”